


melodrama

by yourinternetkid



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), Lorde (Musician)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Break Up, Drugs, F/M, Fluff, Glitter, Growth, Hope, Love, Sorry About It, basically a bunch of little stories based off the songs in melodrama, but also nobody will read this anyway so, but it'd like to think that her spirit is, i love lorde, i love melodrama, relationship, renewal of relationship, self discovery, she's not in this story, the most self indulgent thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:43:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourinternetkid/pseuds/yourinternetkid
Summary: A bunch of one shot type stories inspired by the songs on Lorde's album 'Melodrama' (aka one of the greatest albums of all time) ft. Ashton and Y/N (and also the other boys in 5 Seconds of Summer because I love them all). It all comes together in the end. I like it. You can read it if you want.





	melodrama

_ green light _

She was wearing silver shoes- so shiny they reflected the neon lights around them like a mirror. Even in the limited space around the perimeter of the dance floor, the shined so bright that Ashton couldn’t help but notice them.

“I like your shoes.”

“Thanks. I like your,” she gestured to the space around her eye, “glitter. Very festive. You got any more of that stuff?”

“Yeah. You want some?” Ashton asked. The girl nodded, and Ashton nodded towards the perimeter of the club.

“Come on then.”

She whispered something to the girl next to her and then took a step closer to him. Her shoes reflected the neon lights around them, glinting and changing color with every step she took.

“Where’d you get those anyway?”

“The shoes?”

“Yeah.” Ashton squeezed in between a rowdy group of boys, reaching a hand out for the girl he’d just met. She took it and let him pull her close.

“Little botique not too far from where I live. It’s called Brighton.”

“Cool.” Ashton slid into the booth he’d reserved earlier in the night. He reached into his front pocket and presented a little container of glitter. “Want me to put it on for you?”

The girl leaned closer. “Up around my eye, like how yours is.”

“Got it,” Ashton said. He patted a bit of glue onto his finger and smeared it across her cheekbone and up around above her eyebrow. The girl closed her eyes. Ashton could see where her eyeliner had smeared. The lipstick she was wearing was starting to wear off so he could see the real color of her lips amidst all of the red. 

“You do this often?” The girl asked as Ashton patted the glue to see if it wa sticky. He chuckled.

“More often than you’d think. Usually for work, but sometimes for play too.”

“And which is this?”

Ashton picked up the glitter on the tip of his finger. With his other hand he tilted the girl’s head ever so slightly. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“You’ve at least got to close the left one,” Ashton said. “Don’t want you going blind.”

“You really do do this often, don’t you?”

“I told you. Now close your eyes.”

She did as told, and he gently pat the glitter in the space over her eyebrow, around and under her eye till she was just as sparkly as him. 

“There. You can open your eyes now.”

“How’s it look?” she asked and reached up as if to run her finger over the glitter. Her fingers hovered over it, but she left it alone.

“Really good with all the lights. Here.” Ashton reached for his phone and turned on the camera. “Smile.”

She laughed when she saw herself. “Not bad. I quite like it.”

“It looks good on you.”

“Thanks.” She smiled. “What’s your name so I can give you a five star review on Yelp?”

He laughed, “It’s Ashton.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“I’m glad I could be of service, Y/N. I appreciate your nice customer review.”

“It’s no problem. How could I ever repay you for making me so beautiful?”

“A drink?” Ashton asked and she smiled.

“You got it. Come with me?”

“Sure.”

The two scooted out of the booth and towards the bar. Throughout the rest of the night Ashton watched her makeup slowly fade away as the drinks and dancing took their toll, but the glitter around her eye stayed put and continued to shine.

At the end of the night she kissed the corner of his mouth and slipped into a taxi. He watched her drive away. The smell of cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air, and he tilted his head back and stared up at the sky while the rest of his body surrendered.

He hoped he would see her again. 

_ i’m waiting for it, that green light, i want it _

* * *

_sober_

It was sometime that summer when they had to break their regular routine. He was off working with the band, she was stuck finishing a deadline for her website. Things didn’t match up, until they did.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she smiled. Ashton was sitting out back by the pool. The tops of his shoulders were pink from the sun, the only thing saving his face from burning being the baseball cap tugged over his forehead. 

“I’m glad I’m back too,” he said. He patted the place next to him. She let her legs fall into the pool and handed him a fresh beer. 

“Could go for something stronger, you know?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“I’m not sure what’s in the kitchen. You could always check.” She kicked a bit of water in the air. Ashton watched it shine. “Might be some tequila left over from Jordan’s birthday.”

“Perfect,” Ashton said and pushed himself up onto his feet. He left puddles behind him as he walked. 

“You got any limes?” he called through the screen door. 

“Fridge. Bottom drawer.”

“Got ‘em,” Ashton said and returned to his place with an arm full of supplies.

“You up for a few shots?”

Y/N shrugged, “I’ve got nothing going on. Sure.”

Ashton poured a couple of shots and sprinkled some salt into his land. A plate of cut limes sat in between them.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Ashton counted down from three and they each took turns licking up the salt before tossing the shots back. The taste of lime tickled the inside of Ashton’s mouth as his lips closed around it. She giggled next to him.

“I’ve been so pleasantly tipsy since you got back,” she said, “I’m not sure I remember what it’s like to be sober.”

“I can tell you right now it’s not nearly as nice as this,” Ashton smiled and leaned forward. His lips pressed against hers clumsily. She gripped at his shoulders and he knew he’d be well and proper sunburned tomorrow, but at that moment he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

“I missed being stupid with you,” she whispered against him. He laughed. 

“I missed you too.”

_ king and queen of the weekend - but what will we do when we’re sober? _

* * *

_homemade dynamite_

She was leaned up against somebody else.

His hand were in her hair, on her waist, running down her thighs. Ashton hated it, wanted to put a stop to it. He just wasn’t sure he could get up from the couch. 

The pills he and Calum had taken were great, amazing even. They left him feeling something new and exciting. They made the things around him sparkle, like everything was covered in glitter, and not just Y/N’s eyelids or Calum’s cheeks. 

They also made it difficult to do anything beyond just sit and take it all in. 

Ashton couldn’t think hard enough to get his legs to move. He could only sit and watch while Y/N danced with his friends, and then acquaintances, and then strangers. He felt sick. 

He couldn’t tell how long it’d been before she finally returned, plopping onto the couch next to him and leaning into his side.

“Having fun?” she asked. Somewhere next to them a glass bottle shattered, and Ashton watched the pieces scatter across the floor. She pulled her legs up onto the couch, away from the mess.

“Where are your shoes?” he asked. She shrugged.

“My feet hurt. I took them off.” She looked around the room, confused, and then moved like she was about to get up. Ashton curled his fingers around her wrist, grateful that he’d at least managed to do that.

“Don’t. You’ll hurt yourself.”

She looked down at glass littering the floor and then leaned back into Ashton’s side. “Later,” she said.  _ Later, what? _ Ashton wondered. He wasn’t sure what she meant. His head was starting to hurt. 

“Don’t like it when you dance without me,” he said.

She turned to look at him. Ashton thought she looked surprised. 

“Really?”

Ashton frowned. “Yes. Really.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you.”

She threw her head back and laughed. Ashton could see the long line of her throat, the sweat on her chest. She laughed for a long time. Too long.

“Did you take something?” Ashton asked.

“Yeah. Just a little pill. Shelby gave it to me. You know Shelby.”

Ashton nodded. The pain in his head throbbed with the beat of the music playing around them. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the feeling of her leg pressed against his. A sweaty palm wiggled it’s way up the bottom of his shirt and pressed into his ribs. 

“Know I think you’re awesome, right?” she asked. Ashton opened his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She leaned forward and kissed him. Somewhere else in the room someone started shouting, and the music got louder. The couch they were resting on jerked sideways and her hands gripped harder at his sides. The clink and crunch of shoes against glass wasn’t half as loud as the person wailing in the hallway.

Ashton just kissed her back. 

_ blowing shit up with homemade dynamite _

* * *

_ the louvre _

“This place is fucking huge.”

“Just follow the signs that point to Mona Lisa. That’s all anyone’s here for anyway,” Y/N said and tugged Ashton further into the museum. Ashton let himself be dragged through a hallway of ancient sculptures and frescos before he finally stood his ground.

“There’s got to be a map of this place somewhere.”

“Ash,” she implored, “We have time. Let’s just wander around.”

“We’ll miss all the important stuff that way.”

“Like what kind of important stuff?”

“Like,” Ashton looked around, “like,” his circled his hand through the air as if it would conjure up exactly what he was looking for, “like the Mona Lisa.”

Y/N closed her eyes and shook her head, and suddenly Ashton’s hand was jammed up against her stomach and she was falling into him.

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?” she asked. His free arm came up to wrap around her shoulders.

“I’m fucking organized and fucking ready to get my twenty nine euros worth. That’s what I am.”

Y/N leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and then tugged at his hand.

“Come on then. Mona Lisa’s this way. Can’t keep her waiting.”

The painting was smaller in person, and the crowds of people around it itching to take a picture next to the portrait drove Y/N and Ashton into a different room, a different hallway, a different section of the old palace until they felt they might be lost forever in the archives of the Louvre. They sat at a bench and gazed at a painting of a woman pouring water into a bowl. The artist’s name was lost on them, but the way the light in the painting bounced off the woman’s skin made Ashton want to peel Y/N’s sweater away from her collarbones and run his fingers along her shoulders.

He watched as she stared at the painting, hands gripping the edge of the bench they sat on while she leaned closer and closer. The occasional straggler made their way through the room, never staying for long. Perhaps they were as lost as Ashton and Y/N were, though the longer they sat in front of the mysterious picture, the more Ashton felt they were supposed to be there.

“Stand in front of it,” Ashton said. “I want to take a picture of you.”

“Stand in front of it and block the painting?”

“Or to the side. Whatever you want. I want a picture of you.”

“Alright.”

She rocked forward off of the bench and stood off to the left of the painting. Ashton took 

a moment to admire the way she adjusted her skirt before digging his phone out of his pocket and snapping a few photos. The more he took, the more ridiculous she started to look as she took up a variety of different poses.

“That’s the one,” Ashton laughed and looked down at the photo. Y/N’s warmth pressed against his left side as she looked over his shoulder. 

“I was born to model.”

“Clearly,” he laughed. “Take some of me.”

By the time the two finally returned to their bench clouds had rolled over the sun and the weather outside was beginning to change. The little window on the far side of the room looked like it was starting to get spattered by rain drops when Ashton leaned over and took Y/Ns face between his hands. Her arms were wrapped surely around his neck when the first thunder clap sounded. Their lips were numb by the time they finally decided it was time to head home, leaving their little corner and braving the labyrinth and then the storm as they rushed through the streets of Paris, young and breathless.

_ they’ll hang us in the louvre (down the back, but who cares, still the louvre) - i am your sweetheart, psychopathic crush _

* * *

 

_ liability  _

It was one of those nights when everything was just too much.

“I know you’re angry at me.”

“That’s not it, Ashton.”

“You’ve been avoiding me all night. What can I do to prove that I’m really sorry?”

“It’s not you.”

“Oh my god, Y/N.” Ashton fell back onto the couch. She looked at him in surprise, incredulous, almost, before her face hardened and she jabbed a finger at him.

“You’re not fucking listening to me. I wasn’t mad at you but you’re starting to toe the line. I need to be alone.”

She stormed out of the room. Ashton let her. The song she always listened to when she was sad sounded muffled through the walls separating them, but it was still enough to make Ashton feel even more guilty.

It was during the third playthrough of the song that Ashton knocked on her door.

“I’m sorry for what I said. Really,” he rose his voice, hoping she could hear him. The music turned up louder. Ashton leaned his forehead against the door. He heard a thump on the other side.

“You make me feel like I’m alone sometimes,” she said. “Like I’m too much for you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said back, and waited. The door didn’t open. He could hear her crying. 

“I swear I love you.” He pressed his mouth to the wood door, hoped it would make its way through to her- that she would understand. 

She kept crying.

_ “you’re a little much for me, you’re a liability.” _

* * *

_hard feelings_

Ashton knew, logistically, that there was a wide world outside of that car. There, on the street where all the houses looked the same, he could forget. A few of the houses had turned off their porch lights. It must’ve be late- nobody was out. It could’ve just been her and him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

“Me too,” she answered.

He wondered what the world would say the next morning. His mom, would she be surprised? Had their friends seen this coming?

“I want you to know,” Ashton said, “I really did try.”

“I believe you,” she said. Ashton hoped she did.

“I’m sorry.” Saying it again didn’t make it any bigger, any more powerful. 

The light that’d managed to make its way into Ashton’s car looked yellow. It left a residue over the blue that was her collarbones and his wrists. 

“I don’t want to get out yet,” she told him. Her voice was small, had a fearful edge to it that had started to taint her words a lot lately. “I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“They’ll talk.” 

Ashton looked out the window. The houses still looked the same.

“Do you remember the first night I drove you off home?” he asked. “It wasn’t that long ago.”

“Almost a year,” she said.

“Not too long in the grand scheme of things.”

The windows began to fog up with their breath. They’d been sitting long enough that Ashton could’ve drawn shapes against the glass if he’d wanted to. He could see her fingers twitch. He hoped she would write her initials one last time.

She would leave without a trace.

“I’ll miss you,” she said.

“I’ll miss you too.”

“I think some of my things are still in your room. Clothes.”

“I can drop them off here. Tomorrow, if you’d like.” As soon as Ashton said it, he knew it was only the first of many peace offerings, many efforts to mend things between them.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I haven’t worn those things in a while.”

“Well, you should have them back anyway. Decide what you want to do with them.”

She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Those twitching fingers moved up to pinch the bridge of her nose. 

“Another minute,” she told him. Ashton nodded.

“Yes, another minute.”

Her fingers lingered over the buckle of her seatbelt. Ashton wanted to put his hand over hers, wanted to stop her. He knew that one small click would be the end of it.

“Goodbye,” she said. 

**Click.**

_ please could you be tender? - these are what they call hard feelings _

* * *

_l.o.v.e.l.e.s.s._

“I’m sorry Ash,” Calum said and passed him another beer. Ashton shrugged.

“It’s not a big deal. I knew from the start it wouldn’t last anyway.”

Calum hummed and took a swig of his own drink. “Luke’s on his way. We’ll go out tonight. You should wear that silk shirt.”

“I’ll have to find it first.”

“Go look for it,” Calum told him and rose from the couch. “I’ll find the glitter.”

“Glitter?”

“Yeah. We’re taking it back. I know that was your guys’ thing. But it was our thing first.”

Ashton brought the bottle to his lips and tossed his head back. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and rose from the couch.

“Fuck her.”

Calum was already rifling through his bathroom drawers, a hearty, “That’s what I’m talking about!” sounding from down the hall. 

Ten minutes later when Luke was helping him gel his hair back and Calum was patting glitter under his eyes Ashton could pretend he was invincible. 

_ bet you wanna rip my heart out - well guess what, i like that (we’re l.o.v.e.l.e.s.s.) _

* * *

_sober ii (melodrama)_

It was the end of another night. Ashton had fun- he danced, drank enough to feel buzzed, reconnected with old friends, and, at some point during the night, was handed an entire cheese plate for some god forsaken reason, and he’d been helping himself to snacks ever since. It was the best night he’d had in a while, and for that reason alone he decided to stay a bit later to help clean up after the party.

It was easy enough to throw plastic cups and plates into a trash bag along with the empty cheese plate. It was a more delicate operation when it came to collecting as many wine, champagne, and martini glasses in his arms as he could to take them back to the kitchen. Ashton had a wine stem crammed between each of his fingers when there was a knock on the front door. The host of the party shouted, “come in!” from the kitchen, and after a moment the door shuddered and swung open.

“Ashton,” Y/N said, clearly surprised to find him there. “I,” she started. “How are you?”

“Good,” Ashton said. The glasses clinked together in his hands. “The party’s over you know. Has been for about an hour.”

“I know. Trevor texted me to pick him up. You know where he is?”

Ashton scrunched his nose, “Trevor?”

“Yeah. Tall guy. Brown hair. Most likely very intoxicated.”

Ashton shrugged, “I’m not sure. There are a few people passed out downstairs. You could check there.”

“Thanks,” she said, and moved towards the staircase. Ashton could smell her shampoo as she walked by, a puff of lavender something or other. 

“You look good, by the way,” she said, catching his attention. She gestured to the space around her eyes. Ashton wanted to itch at the glitter glued to his skin. 

“Thank you,” Ashton said. “You too.”

She smiled. The wine glasses clinked. She disappeared down the stairs. Ashton stood with his hands full and tried to understand how he felt.

_ we told you this was melodrama (oh how fast the evening passes cleaning up the champagne glasses) _

* * *

_writer in the dark_

“Think it’s about you?”

“I don’t think, Calum. I know. We spent the entire fucking weekend in Monterey, who else would she be referencing?”

“Her new boyfriend maybe?”

“She’s not dating anybody new,” Ashton said and crossed his arms over his chest. “She would’ve posted that on Instagram or something.”

“She never posted anything about you.”

“That was different.”

Calum narrowed his eyes. Ashton knew he was being annoying, maybe even a bit rude, but he was angry. She’d posted a new painting, and a blog too, and it was so obviously a piece in reference to him. To _ them _ .

“Have you actually read what she wrote, Ashton?” Luke asked as he walked into the room. Ashton rolled his eyes.

“Of course I have. How else would I know it’s about me?”

“She didn’t say anything bad, mate. It’s actually kind of sweet, what she wrote.”

“She said I hurt her feelings.”

“You did,” Luke said. 

“Not on purpose,” Ashton defended himself. Michael looked up from his phone, setting it down on the couch next to him.

“It’s really not that bad, Ashton.”

“You guys don’t fucking get it. It’s just weird and,” he didn’t know, “and,” he wasn’t sure, “it’s feels like a fucking invasion of privacy.”

“On a scale from one to Abigail Breslin, this is, like, a level one crisis. Maybe even level point five. Quit freaking out. The only reason I know this is even about you is because you turned down plans to hang out so you could go on that trip,” Michael said, and Ashton knew that he was not only being annoying and rude, but also insensitive when he scowled back at Michael. 

“Anyway,” Michael continued, “regardless of how you feel about it, this post is kind of beautiful. And tragic”

“Tragic?” asked Ashton.

“She really cared about you.” 

_ Cared? _

“Yeah,” Calum agreed. “You guys really fucked each other up.”

“I-” Ashton started, and stopped. He didn’t know what to say. 

“I’m going swimming,” Luke announced, clearly done with the conversation. Calum and 

Michael got up to follow him, Michael swooping behind where Ashton sat on the couch and swatting at the back of his head.

“She loves you, you know. Don’t fuck this up,” he said. Ashton scoffed.

“We don’t even fucking talk anymore. How could I possibly fuck up what doesn’t exist?”

Michael was halfway out the door when Ashton heard his voice, high pitched and clearly  

attempting to mimic his own- “ _ We don’t even fucking talk anymore _ ,” Michael babbled on after that, muttering something to himself and heading for the backyard. He slammed the door shut behind him and suddenly Ashton was alone.

_ i’ll love you till my breathing stops (bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark) _

* * *

_ supercut _

It was bound to happen at some point or another.

They had the same friends, knew the same people. Of course they’d bump into each other occasionally. Ashton just hadn’t expected to be in this forced carpool situation.

It wasn’t so bad when the entire group was in the car, Ashton upfront driving and Y/N in the back laughing. It wasn’t bad at the party, and it actually ended up being a bit helpful at the end of the night when she helped corral the most wasted friends back into Ashton’s car, even being so courteous as to babysit Sam who looked like he was about to puke at any moment. No. What was bad was the very end of the night, after Ashton and Y/N had carried Sam up to his apartment and then returned to the SUV. What was bad was the realization that it was going to be just them for nine miles of late night LA traffic. What was bad was the memory of the last time he’d dropped her off home.

As soon as the car was on Ashton turned the radio on low, hoping to fill some of the silence he was anticipating.

“I love this song,” she said and reached to turn the radio up. Ashton let her. He could still hear her voice faintly over the speakers as she mumbled along. His fingers tapped involuntarily to the beat.

“Thanks for helping me with all those idiots,” Ashton said after a few minutes, the radio not being enough. She smiled.

“No problem. Thanks for being the designated driver.”

“I’d think it was you with the amount you drank. I haven’t seen you that sober at a party since-” Ashton stopped. There wasn’t a time, he realized, where either of them had stayed sober for more than five minutes when they went out.

“I know,” she said. “I think I was always buzzed when I was with you.” It sounded like she was teasing, but Ashton shuddered to think it might have actually been true. “I can’t do that anymore. I don’t think it was good for me.”

“Yeah,” Ashton said. His fingers kept tapping on the wheel. Outside the lights bounced of the road and made it shine yellow. His car had streaks of neon running across the hood. He wondered what he’d missed during those months they’d been together.

“Not that it wasn’t fun,” her voice interrupted his thoughts. “The parties I mean. With you. Those were,” she smiled, “kind of magic. I felt invincible.”

Ashton smiled at the road, “Me too.”

He wished he could go back and pay more attention to that time. His memories were choppy, he felt like he was missing something.

“I miss those days,” she said and sighed. Ashton could see out of the corner of his eye when she breathed hot against the glass window. His eyes darted back and forth from the road to where she was writing her initials there in the fog like she always used to.

“Me too.”

_ wild and fluorescent, come home to my heart (in my head i play a supercut of us) _

* * *

_liability (reprise)_

“Luke?”

“Yeah, Ashton?”

“You ever think that we’re just too much?”

“No. What do you mean?”

_ Luke _ , _ you idiot _ , Ashton thought. Always answering the question and then asking for elaboration of said question later. Ashton wasn’t sure if he even could elaborate.

“I mean,” Ashton started, “I’m loud. And I know I ask for attention- not on purpose- it just happens. And sometimes I think it scares people away.”

“Is this about Y/N?”

“What?” Ashton asked. “No. Not everything is about Y/N.”

“Lately it has been.”

“You know what, nevermind.” Ashton pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Ashton,” Luke said. “Stop.” When Ashton didn’t respond, Luke snatched his phone out of his hand.

“What the fuck?” Ashton yelled and reached to snatch it back.

“You didn’t scare Y/N off, you fuck tard. If anything, she scared you off.”

“What? No,” Ashton protested. “She was- there was nothing wrong with her. I’m not scared of her. It was just too much on my plate. You know?”

Luke hummed, “Sounds like she was too much.” 

“No!” Ashton leaned forward in his seat, sweaty palms anchored on his knees. “That’s- don’t say that about her.”

Luke smiled and tossed Ashton’s phone back to him. “You’ve got some shit to figure out, dude.” He left the room not long after, and Ashton was alone- alone with all the shit that needed to be figured out.  _ Fuck. _

That used to be something she was afraid of- being too much. They’d had arguments about it, he’d said things he shouldn’t have. He’d suggested they take a break before they finally ended things- had claimed he was too busy for a girlfriend.

He wondered if that had hurt her more than he’d meant it to. If it had just confirmed her fears. Ashton hunched over his legs and thumbed at the tip of his shoes.  _ Fuck,  _ he thought.  _ I’m an idiot. _

Of course it’d hurt. Of course telling her that their relationship was too much work had hurt. Even if he hadn’t said it that way, that’s what it boiled down to, didn’t it? Of course it did. Of course it hurt.  _ Of course, of course, of course.  _

He wondered if his own insecurities were some kind of karma for the ways he’d hurt her. He wondered if he’d made her cry, if he’d made her afraid. He wondered if it was too late to apologize for all of it. He wondered if he was allowed to ask for forgiveness. 

Ashton shuddered. He’d always thought he’d done it all right.  

He’d always thought he was strong enough back then for them- for her. 

He’d always thought that there was no way he could ever get her back.

He wondered if he’d been wrong all along.

_ but you’re not what you thought you were (liability) _

* * *

_ perfect places _

“Hey,” Ashton said the moment Y/N stepped into the coffee shop. She smiled at him and took off her sunglasses.

“Hi. How’s it going?”

“It’s good. Really good,” Ashton smiled back and nodded towards the menu. “I’m buying. And I’m serious. Don’t even try to argue.”

“I wasn’t going to,” she laughed. “I never turn down free coffee.”

They sat outside. It was a beautiful day- not too hot or too cold. Ashton like the dress she was wearing. He liked the way her hair fell. He liked the way she doodled designs into the condensation on the table. He wondered how he’d never noticed any of that before. 

“I think this is the closest we’ve ever gotten to going on a real date, you know,” she said. “We always just did shit. Not that it was bad- it was great. Fun.”

“It was,” Ashton said. “But this is good too. I like this.”

Y/N looked up from the table in surprised. She took a sip of coffee and fixed her gaze on him.

“You like this,” she repeated it. “Is this a date then?”

Ashton looked straight back at her. He wanted her to know, “I’d like it to be. If you’re okay with it, that is.”

She smiled, “Things won’t be the same. You know that right?”

Ashton nodded.

“I’m different now,” she said. “You might not like it.”

“I’d like to decide that for myself, if you don’t mind,” Ashton said, and then covered his face with his hand. “That came out so fucking pretentious, I’m so sorry.”

Y/N laughed while Ashton’s cheeks grew pink with embarrassment. 

“I think I know what you meant. Don’t worry,” she said. Ashton shook his head.

“No, I’m sorry. I want this to be real. I want to really know you this time around. I think I only caught glimpses last time. I regret that.”

Her fingertips brushed against the back of his hand, “I want that too, Ash,” she said. “I’m not perfect by any means, but I will be myself. Unapologetically myself. As long as you are too.”

“I will be,” Ashton flipped his hand and held hers properly. “I don’t want perfect.”

“Me neither.”

Ashton paused, took a breath, “Did you know this was coming when I asked you to meet me here?”

“Honestly? I’d hoped. These past few weeks you’ve been-” she stopped, and started again, “I couldn’t help but hope. But no, I didn’t know.”

“I shouldn’t have said those things to you last year,” he said, “Shouldn’t have suggested taking a break.” Ashton sighed. “It was a waste of time, wasn’t it?”

“No.” She smiled. “It was necessary. I needed to be alone. Figure some shit out. I think I’m more myself now. I couldn’t do that before.”

Ashton stared at her, a small smile on his face as he took her in. This new her, the her that he didn’t think he’d known before now.

“Let’s go,” he said, and pushed his coffee towards the middle of the table. “Let’s walk, move, do something. I’m buzzing.” He grinned and she laughed.

“Alright. Let’s go.” 

_ all the nights spent off our faces trying to find these perfect places, what the fuck are perfect places anyway? _

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to leave kudos and comments. hope you have a lovely, sparkling, safe day.


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